Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Felicity, CA stands as exposed to passers by along Interstate 8 as the empty expanse of the Colorado Desert.

You can't miss the pyramid off the side of the highway, but you'll definitely miss the exit. After making the u-turn to get back, down a cracked and rippling layer of asphalt, Sash and I thought the place had been abandoned. But it was too well maintained.

It almost seems eerie, ghostly like. The silence and loneliness here could just as well be purifying, but it feels like you're being watched.

That people would put so much effort (and money) into building something like this in the middle of nowhere, and then claim it to be the "center of the world" somehow seemed arrogant to me. If there truly was a "center of the world" and it held some kind of power, then why aren't there more people here?

Somehow, the addition of a pyramid at one end, and a church at the other, seems to unify the metaphysical with the spiritual. Sandwiched between the two are rows of granite blocks etched with the history of the world. I'd spend more time reading the etchings but it's too damn hot here.

And what's with the apartment buildings nearby? You wonder if this place is really a freak cult where members dress themselves in black jogging suits and Converse All-Stars, pulling weeds and polishing the granite, while waiting for alien spaceships to take them away.

But it's not. Felicity is the creation of one guy who bought up a bunch of land and decided to spend a bunch of money on it. Here's the whole story on him.

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A vagabond who hauls a motorcycle around the country in a toy hauler, earning a living as a website developer. Can often be found where there's free Wi-Fi, craft beer, and/or public nudity. (Read more...)